


Waterlogged Lungs

by sunaddicted



Series: Keep your fins (I'd rather have my feet)! [2]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Funny, I REGRET NOTHING, Light Angst, M/M, Mairon is temporally mute because of gills, Masturbation in Bathroom, Merman!Mairon, Oral Sex, Shape-shifting troubles, and he purrs like a cat, bottom!Melkor, creature sex, top!Mairon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-20 15:38:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4793021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunaddicted/pseuds/sunaddicted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the memory of his last experiment still fresh in his mind, the Maia washed his fiery red hair before he attempted to shape-shift into a fish – again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waterlogged Lungs

**Author's Note:**

> For those, who follow me on Tumblr: yeay, I finally finished to type this.. thing lol  
> If you have never read "Goldfish?", it's not a tragedy: this piece is basically smut and there're not too many references to its companion.  
> Enjoy!

_Waterlogged Lungs_

Mairon had always been a perfectionist and failure had never sat too well with him, always burning like a festering injury that couldn’t be ignored. That was why he had slaved so many times in Aulë’s forges, working his tired muscles into knots and sweating his body weight on his pristine workbench, tuning out Aulë’s nagging mothering. That was why he has joined Melkor, promptly pledging his spirit to his grandiose scheme of a perfect world.

Stubbornly, he quickly climbed the stairs that led to his “secret” bathing room, the air around him prickling with determination and annoyance.

He took his time to draw the bath: the ambience and the atmosphere were both essential variables of his experiment. Before plugging the tub, he waited for the water dripping from the faucet to be scalding hot – almost boiling; then, he dumped generous globs of honey-and-lavender scented gel that bubbled and frothed nicely on the surface and laced to the steaming vapors wafting to the ceiling. Once a thick and wonderfully perfumed fog set in the room, Mairon rid himself of his robes, folding them carefully on a counter by the heavy wooden door.

He submerged himself without hesitation, relishing in the feeling of dead skin being stripped away from his flesh by the extraordinary heat – cold or tepid water had never made him feel truly clean, seemingly leaving his pores clogged up with filth.

A pleasured hum trembled in the back of his throat as he closed his burning irises to better enjoy the sensation – Thuringwethil would have teased him, saying that he had purred like a content and spoiled cat.

Mairon’s thoughts floated away and his body sagged deeper in the bath, until the water licked at his pointy chin, while tension uncoiled from his muscles and his bones seemed to turn to gooey jelly. A satisfied sigh whistled out of his lips: his day had been so very long and frustrating, that he didn’t know how he had managed to avoid killing or seriously maiming someone.

With the memory of his last experiment still fresh in his mind, the Maia washed his fiery red hair before he attempted to shape-shift into a fish – again.

A scowl darkened his sharp features as he was once more reminded of his failure, making his fingers speed up their massage on his scalp and his mind perk up, ready to focus on the problem at hand: he had never seen a fish.

He was aware that some details of his transformation had been spot on: the tail, the scales littering his body, the way his sex had been hidden… but the webbed hands had been wrong as well as the size of his body – it seemed fishes were rather small – and he had been lacking of an organ that would let him breathe underwater.

Mairon buried his face between his knees to better focus, gradually unleashing his power. The shell of his body trembled as it came loose at the seams, preparing to dissolve like mist and let his spirit craft a shape more suited to its wishes; it wasn’t exactly a pleasurable feeling, despite the obvious thrill the idea of being boundless caused him.

Smoothly, his bones started to rearrange themselves in a new design and his limbs twisted into a new form while muscles and tendons glided to their newly appointed stations. It wasn’t painful – not even when scales started to pierce his flesh to emerge on its surface – but it was uncomfortable.

Despite being already closed, he squeezed his eyelids tighter on his irises and bit lightly on his lower lip, worrying the tender and plump flesh with the sharp points.

His throat constricted painfully and short and hurried breaths wheezed past his lips while his lungs started to burn. It felt like he was drowning and choking on thick and poisonous smoke at the same time while just air was inhaled by his panicky flaring nostrils.

Instinctively, he submerged himself and the arson was immediately soothed by the feeling of water sloshing in his lungs like a balm. As the pain progressively decreased in intensity, Mairon opened his eyes and a pleased gurgle left his lips as soon as soon as he noticed his sight was perfectly clear, even underwater: evidently, the transformation must have been a success.

The elation of victory lasted only a minute, the time it took him to notice that he still had his arms: they were adorned with golden scales, speckled with copper and emerald green – which Mairon greatly disliked because it looked like mold was growing on their shiny surface – and slim bronzed fins that floated placidly In the water. To boot, his hands were webbed – again.

Sighing, he studied his body and trailed his fingers on the scales embellishing his sides and clustered around his bellybutton, a strange and vaguely exotic frame to his piercing. He trailed along the edges of his hipbones and dipped slower, exploring his pelvis where the humanoid body melted into the fish and a tail had taken place of his beautiful legs; in the valley of his pelvic bone, he searched for the hidden opening and made sure everything was in order, Gothmog’s horrified expression still playing at the forefront of his mind. He exhaled in relief when his questing digits stroked a lightly slimy and fleshy organ that undoubtly was his manhood. Good.

Dissatisfied with himself, Mairon curled the fishtail under his bum and tried again to find his focus, eager to escape that horrible and unnatural form, careful of not panicking like the previous time. He gathered his energy to the core, coaxed it to work in his favor and dissolve the shape it had managed to craft – his power was alive and sentient and, just like its master, it was a vain being in need of praising.

Absentmindedly, he rubbed a hand against the column of his neck; he regretted it immediately when his palm momentarily sealed some openings he hadn’t noticed yet and his breath chocked in his throat. It was a few seconds – enough to make him loose his already shaky concentration and his heartrate to skyrocket dangerously. Trembling, he gingerly explored the fluttering and gaping holes opened on his trachea, skin crawling with ever-increasing disgust as he blindly studied the new organs that permitted him to breathe underwater – gills, that was the name.

Their discovery had left him completely grossed out and frightened, totally unable to revert his transformation.

Luckily, he recalled perfectly how Melkor had managed to calm him.

Trying to banish the nightmarish image of his new body from his mind, Mairon thought about his lover while idly stroking his limp his manhood, attempting at coaxing it to firmness: he remembered Melkor’s long and straight hair that was the same color of onyx, his sparkling blue eyes and the plush smirking mouth, he mentally caressed the sharp lines of his jaw and wide shoulders the ghost of his lips travelled on a muscled and manly chest adorned with dark and peaked nipples, saliva pooling at the back of his tongue at the mere idea of descending upon his lover’s erection, thick and framed by an endearing nest of black curls – the only hair sprouting from his body, except that growing on his head.

Usually, it would have been enough to make him hard – usually, he could have shamelessly spread his legs and fingered his hole, hooded eyes begging Melkor to fuck him into the next Age; usually, he could have cupped his balls before teasingly tugging at them; usually, he could have stabbed at that wonderful spot halfway between his cock and his arsehole.

Increasingly desperate, he frantically fisted his virility and ground his teeth against the self-inflicted pain , hoping that a reward would come if he endured it.

Nothing.

He let his painful grip go slack and hastily retreated his hand, cradling it against his breastbone as if to soothe an invisible wound. Mairon muffled a sob and curled at the bottom of the tub, hiding his head under fanned end of his tail, distracting himself with its pattern. He was such a failure! He couldn’t even shape-shift into a sodding fish without messing it up: how could Melkor still stand him when he had nothing worthy to give? He must have been the most useless Lieutenant ever existed! Hot tears joined the cooling water of the bath, leaking more and more as a mix of shame and self-loathing clustered in Mairon’s heart who closed his eyes and buried his face in his forearms – hiding, always hiding.

* * *

Mairon came to when he felt long and gent fingers expertly play with his floating hair, resembling a cloud of blood languidly expanding in the water. The Maia didn't need to look to know it was Melkor touching him and he settled for curling his body around the other's, leeching off the comforting warmth of his presence and fondly nuzzling his stomach. He clearly heard the Vala's chuckle despite being underwater and deduced his hearing must have been improved by his transformation - at least, something had gone well. 

As acknowledgement, he dropped a kiss on his taut abdomen and peered up at him, scowling when foam floated in the way. He reached up with a webbed hand and banished it with an effective swish, revealing Melkor's face smiling down at him "You're so stubborn"

Mairon harrumphed and halfheartedly glared at him, feeling a pout blossoming on his lips. He opened his mouth to insult the Vala - that always felt good - but only a string of gurgles and whistles left his throat which, horrified, Mairon started to rub in the false conviction that it only needed some warming up; the rational part of his brain was quite aware that the transformation must have messed with his vocal chords, attempting at turning them in those of a fish - by the sounds he made, Mairon wondered whether fishes even had vocal chords. 

Melkor laughed and his hands, rough and and calloused against those smooth cheeks, cupped the Maia's terrified face in a vain attempt at comfort "Stop panicking, Little Flame" he suggested throwing in his lover's nickname to ground his fluttering mind "It's alright, we'll solve this problem in a tick" he promised and raised Mairon's face to the surface, careful of keeping the gills underwater. He bent down to seduce that mouth slacked with panic in a kiss, tonguing the seams of those shiny lips and nibbling at then tenderly until Mairon's tongue joined the dance and curled around his own. They kissed slowly, tasting each other and taking their time to revel in their connection, languidly swapping saliva and lazily mapping every well-known crevice. 

It was Melkor the first to break it, being the only one whose breathing pattern had been put on hold during their display of affection "Now, that's better" he observed, pupils avidly drinking in the lovestruck look in his Little Flame's eyes: witnessing the intensity if Mairon's longing for him always deeply moved the Mighty Arising - not even his Maker had looked upon hi with such affection, neither his brother who claimed to want the best for him. Only that obnoxious, brilliant and talented Maia had ever truly loved him - and Melkor was quite fine with it. 

Mairon blinked while nibbling at Melkor's pinkie, soothing the sting of his sharp teeth with his tongue.

"I like this form" the Vala declared while sporting a grin "It suits you" 

If looks could have killed, Melkor would have died on the spot such was the harshness empowering Mairon's glare. Angry hisses whistles through his clenched teeth and he ducked underwater in childish retaliation. How could Melkor say such a thing? What about his long and toned legs any she-elf would have died for? Or his musical voice that was always perfectly intoned? Or - most important - his shapely arse? Obviously, that form didn't suit him at all. 

When he heard a muttered "You're so vain" he poked Melkor hard in the ribs, twisting his wrist to dwell deeper in the flesh and increase the pain. 

Melkor sighed "C'mon, I was complimenting you" 

Mairon arched a perfectly chiselled eyebrow to convey the sarcasm-dripping "You'd better abstain from compliments" that was singing in his head - it was so annoying not being able to talk. He settled in Melkor's lap and sighed deeply, completely oblivious of the eager and leaking hardness poking his lower back, too intent on wallowing in self-pity to notice his lover's arousal. 

The Vala rubbed comfortingly his tensed back, working at the knotted muscles between his shoulderblades and smirked when his lover started relaxing under his thoughtful ministrations, caressing lower and lower until he reached the faint and blurred line where the fishtail begun; he rubbed the tender flesh and the hard scales, marvelling at the different textures and wondering about how differently they made Mairon perceive his touch - one would have argued that, of course the flesh was more sensitive, but he wasn't so sure and kept stimulating the foreign bits sprouting from that pale skin. 

He was rewarded with a full-body shudder that made Mairon's fishtail rub forcefully against his hardness, drawing out a moan from his throat and shaking Mairon from his morose thinking, redirecting his attention to a more enjoyable activity. 

Mairon turned around on his lap to eye the Vala's erection and licked his lips: his lover was gorgeous and alluring, a seductive fiend - despite Melkor claiming that it was the Maia the otherworldly stunning one, Mairon didn't believe him. 

Warily, he caressed the jutting erection and tried to understand whether Melkor was grossed out at the touch of his webbed hand; the last tine they had done this while he was stuck as a half-fish, Mairon had been too lost in pleasure to focus on the Vala's reactions. 

So far, if the throbbing flesh against his palm and the breathy moans were anything to go by, Melkor was enjoying himself. It reassured him - he would never hurt his lover - and he firmed his grip, giving a firm upwards stroke that made a loud keen escape the Vala's throat. 

A big hand entwined in his hair and guided him downwards, until his lips ghosted a kiss against the shiny red tip. Shooting Melkor a mischievous look, Mairon darted out his tongue and gathered the pearly liquid beaded at the slit, smacking obscenely loudly his lips as he tasted the salty and musky pre-cum and letting a strangely satisfied gurgle tickle his throat. 

"Tease" Melkor reproached him, nudging his erection past those sharp teeth; a hiss whistled out of his throat as the wet and enticing heat of Mairon's moist cavern enveloped his sensitive flesh, shutting his brain up with the seductive promise of pleasure: Mairon was talented like that. 

"Come up here" he pleaded, tugging lightly at that wavy crimson hair "I want to kiss you, Little Flame" 

The Maia pointed at his submerged neck where gaping gills fluttered and quivered: he hoped the gesture was enough to make him understand that standing up was physically impossible. 

Melkor smacked his forehead and sat in front of him, bending his neck down to devour those plump lips glistening with saliva and his own juices; Mairon's mouth always tasted so decadent and spicy, turning him into a ravenous fiend. He keened loudly as he traced the edges of his lover's teeth with his tongue and a few drops of his blood were spilled. 

The Maia enjoyed the lack of burning in his lungs as the kiss protracted, reluctant to let Melkor turn his head to breathe the heady vapors wafting in the bathing room. With his strong arms, he clung to him and wished he could have had his legs to wrap them around the other's waist. He thrust up against that hard leaking length, smirking as another moan fell from Melkor's lips. 

The Vala grunted and licked the trembling edge of a gill, nibbling at it carefully "You naughty fish" he reproached, laughing at the outraged splutter the Maia let out at being called a fish. He kissed him - hard - before he could find a way to take revenge and dipped his hand between their bodies, in search of the secret opening; it wasn't as difficult as the first time to find: Mairon was already quite excited and he was so hard that a bulge had appeared. Having such a tangible proof of effect he had on the Admirable - the Maia who could have literally had anyone at his feet, if he so desired - made him feel elated and eager to please him. 

Mairon let out a noise that was a hybrid between a half-choked gurgle and a purr, mentally cursing the way the transformation had messed up with his vocal chords; he would have panicked, hadn't he known that Melkor would never hurt him - those sessions with a gag in his mouth were finally paying off. 

As Melkor's hand freed his erection as immediately started stroking it quickly, Mairon wrapped his webbed hand around the Vala's cock and tugged at it, expertly manipulating the foreskin. 

"Mai... " 

The Maia answered with a hum and nuzzled his torso before starting worrying at a dusky and peaked nipple. 

"Can I ride you?" Melkor pleaded. He felt Mairon nod against his chest and sighed in relief "I'll prepare myself" Even if Mairon would have liked to do it himself, it was impossible with the extra veils of flesh that had grown inbetween his long and calloused fingers "Wanna watch?" he teased, arching a perfectly chiselled eyebrow. 

The Maia purred and let go of Melkor's hardness, eagerly licking his bruised lips as the Vala turned around on all fours and reached back, fingers coated with gel trailing down his crack, slowly inching towards the tightly furrowed opening. He massaged the muscled rim with those glistening digits before slipping a finger in, easily pumping it in and out of his channel - they switched often enough that Melkor's discomfort was minimum and taking in a second finger was no hardship. 

The sight was so arousing that Mairon bested the repulsion he felt for his new form in order to touch himself and relieve the ache and the but settled low in his abdomen. 

A third finger was slowly inched in and Mairon soothingly caressed Melkor's tailbone, quietly encouraging him to relax. 

Both of them groaned loudly as the first knuckle squeezed past the outstretched rim and Melkor twisted his wrist, greedily searching for his prostrated and chasing the mind-numbing sparkling pleasure to overwhelm the uncomfortable twinge in his bottom. Once he found it, he didn't care about the pain and fucked himself on his own three thick fingers, getting ready for Mairon's slim but long cock. He stopped only when he felt the Maia's sharp nails digging in his are and turned to face him, his erection bobbing as he took in Mairon's flushed face and dilated pupils "I'm gonna ride you so hard, Little Flame" he whispered hoarsely, straddling the fishtail and gripping his sharp hipbones as he hovered above the impressive length he couldn't wait to feel buried deep in his body, marking him as the Admirable's possession. 

Impatiently, Mairon thrust up, rubbing the wet tip of his hardness against Melkor's hole; saliva pooled at the back of his mouth and his whole body shook with excitement. 

The Vala impaled himself and relished in the mixed feelings of pain and pleasure wracking his mind as he rode his lover, drinking in every hiss and gurgle escaping the throat. 

As they raced together to completion, Mairon's body came loose under Melkor's and his legs reformed while the scales were reabsorbed by his flesh and his vocal chords stretched into a hoarse moan "Mel!" he cried "Harder! I love you so much! "

Melkor's hips swayed faster, encouraged by that beautiful voice shouting itself hoarse to call his name out. He came hypnotized by Mairon's irises being swallowed by the inky blackness of his pupils.

Mairon promptly followed him as he felt those muscles clamp over his length, milking his pleasure out of it. 

They snuggled close in the tepid water, trading lazy smooches and nips. 

"So, are you done with experimenting?" Melkor inquired, a fond smile plastered allover his mouth: he loved Mairon's stubbornness so much. 


End file.
